


Warning Note

by SylvanWitch



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: First Time Blow Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Episode: s02e10 Ki'ilua (Deceiver)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29113536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanWitch/pseuds/SylvanWitch
Summary: Sometimes, Danny can't tell with Steve whether it's pain or pleasure.
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	Warning Note

**Author's Note:**

> For the "pain and suffering" box on my personal prompts bingo card.

“Danny! Danny!”

It was said in that urgent, breathless way Steve used when something awful was about to happen—a rain of bullets or the final beep of the timer on an explosive device.

For a year and a half, that tone had signaled pain and suffering, incoming.

That Danny couldn’t tell now if that was what Steve intended, stretched out beneath him, hands clenching the headboard, Danny between his spread thighs, one hand wrapped around Steve’s cock, the other across his lower abdomen to keep Steve from choking Danny as he sucked Steve off?

It was worrisome.

He pulled his mouth away to say, “Shh, babe, it’s okay. I’ve got you. Just let go.”

But Steve’s eyes were squeezed shut, his jaw clamped tight, head thrown back and throat a taut bow—he looked like he was being tortured, like Danny was systematically wringing something out of him that Steve didn’t want to give up.

Cold fingers clenching around his heart, Danny sat up and moved his arm away from Steve’s belly, not wanting to hold him down in case he was having some sort of flashback to the bunker.

He kept his other hand wrapped around Steve’s cock, though, not squeezing, just holding, letting Steve know he was here, in Danny’s bed, not alone in some dark, cold room, his body in agony and a dead woman his only company.

And immense pressure in his chest told Danny he was holding his breath, and he let it out with a whoosh as Steve relaxed, hands flexing around the headboard, eyes opening and head coming up, so he could stare down the length of his body to Danny.

“Why’d you stop?” Steve asked, sounding suddenly painfully young and uncertain in a way Danny had never heard from him before.

It wrung another shiver out of Danny’s heart.

“You didn’t sound like you were having a good time,” Danny said, almost reflexively stroking Steve’s cock as if to comfort him.

Steve sucked in a breath and said, “Danny,” his voice hoarse, breath coming out of him in a rush. “Danny, I love this. Don’t stop, man. Please.”

“You sure?”

Steve folded himself up, impressive abs bunching, so he could pull Danny closer by the nape of his neck and rest their foreheads together.

It wasn’t lost on Danny that he couldn’t see Steve’s face that way, but it didn’t matter with the hot wash of his breath across Danny’s face and Steve saying, “It’s not you, Danny. I promise, it’s not you,” kissing him open-mouthed and wet and breathless to punctuate his declarations.

Steve lay back down and gripped the headboard again, holding Danny’s eyes as he said, “Please?”

Steve begging for his mouth was something Danny would never have had the strength to refuse even if this weren’t their first time together, even if he weren’t hungry to taste Steve’s spend on his tongue, to swallow his life down and know he wasn’t going to lose him, at least not then, not with him hot and whole and pleading with him to bring him off.

Steve’s eyes stuttered closed as Danny tightened his grip on his cock, stroking him experimentally just to watch Steve’s chest shiver with his faster breaths.

Then he threw his free arm over Steve’s belly again and bent down to take him in as far as he could, using his tongue and the roof of his mouth to give Steve something to rub against as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked a strangled cry out of him.

Steve tried to buck up into the touch, but Danny held him down, pulling his mouth up to the head, so he could spend some time tonguing the slit and the bundle of nerves that made Steve shout “Danny!” in warning.

Danny’s lips plunged to touch his hand, so Steve could scald the back of his throat with spend. He came for what felt like hours, Danny’s throat working convulsively to swallow every drop, until Steve was pawing weakly at his head and wheezing, “Stop.”

Danny was so hard it hurt, but he took the time to ease Steve’s cock out of his mouth, to rest it gently in the damp nest of curls, and then he sat up and put his hand to his own cock, saying, “Look at me, babe.”

At the first shock of those fuck-blown eyes on him, Danny came in a long arc, painting Steve’s chest and throat with spunk, which Steve dragged his fingers through, so he could suck Danny’s spend off them, eyes still on Danny’s, lips obscenely red and wet, like it had been him doing the sucking all along.

“Babe,” Danny groaned, wishing he were eighteen again so he could feel that mouth around him and return the favor of feeding Steve his cock. Instead, Danny collapsed beside him on the bed and lay there, sweating and panting, his skin hot everywhere they touched—shoulders, wrists, thighs, and ankles.

Steve tangled their fingers together and said to the ceiling, “I love you, you know? You could never hurt me.”

In Danny’s experience, the two weren’t mutually exclusive. In fact, love and hurt seemed to belong together.

But Danny didn’t want his cynicism tarnishing the brilliance of what they’d just shared, so he said, “I love you, too, babe,” instead because it was true and because he was the kind of fool who always hoped that love would prevail.

Maybe this time it would.


End file.
